Page 68 of All The Pretty Little Lies

"Jesus Christ," Zaire mutters, his voice barely above a whisper.

The file is a minefield of medical jargon, but certain phrases jump out at me like neon signs: "oocyte retrieval," "controlled ovarian hyper-stimulation," "in vitro fertilization." My stomach churns as I scroll through the records, each entry more damning than the last.

"Look at this," I say, pointing to a series of entries. "There's at least...six, no, seven separate retrieval procedures listed here."

Zaire's grip on my shoulder tightens, his fingers digging into my flesh. I barely notice the pain, too engrossed in the horrifying details unfolding before us.

As I delve deeper into the records, a pattern emerges. After each retrieval, there are notes about fertilization attempts, all ending in failure. Even the clinical language in the files can't mask the underlying frustration evident in the doctors' notes.

"None of them worked," I murmur, a mix of relief and dread washing over me. "They couldn't create viable embryos."

But then, as if the universe decided we hadn't been punched in the gut enough tonight, I stumble upon a file from ten months ago. My blood runs cold as I read the physician's notes.

I continue scrolling, my heart pounding in my chest. "Wait...look at this one."

The file opens, revealing a set of physician's notes. My eyes widen as I read aloud, "Two viable embryos created. One male, one female."

"They did it," Zaire breathes, his voice a mix of horror and disbelief. "They actually fucking did it."

I scan through the rest of the notes, my mind racing. "It says here they were cryopreserved. Stored for future use."

"Future use," Zaire spits out the words like they're poison. "Like they're talking about spare parts, not human lives."

I lean back in the chair, running a hand through my hair. "This is beyond fucked up, Z. I mean, we knew it was bad, but this is next level shit.”

“Wait," I say, squinting at the screen. "There's more. It looks like they've got a specific location for the cryopreservation tank. Didn’t you say you found a cryopreservation room?"

“Yeah.” Zaire's eyes widen. "Are you saying they might still be here?"

I nod, my fingers flying across the keyboard. "According to this, they're stored in Tank B3, Rack 7, Positions 4 and 5.

"Can you get that door open?"

I crack my knuckles, a grim smile on my face. "That almost hurts.”

It takes a few minutes of furious typing and some creative coding, but I finally hear the telltale click of an electronic lock disengaging. "We're in," I announce. I shove out of the desk chair. “Lead the way.”

Zaire spins on his heels, heading down the hallway, making a left and then a right until we come upon a large metal door. The sign on the door ‘Cryogenic Storage - Authorized Personnel Only.’ I look over to the keypad, where a green light shines from the top of it. “It’s unlocked.”

I try the handle, and it opens with a soft click. Inside, the room is filled with large, cylindrical tanks, each emitting a soft hum. The air is noticeably colder here, our breath visible in small puffs.

"Which one is B3?" Zaire asks, scanning the labels on the tanks.

I spot it in the corner. "Over here," I call, moving towards it.

As we approach the tank, I can't help but quip, "You know, I'm starting to regret skipping all those science classes at the academy. Any idea how to work this thing?"

Zaire shoots me a look of half exasperation and half amusement. "Just find the right rack, smartass."

I spot a pair of thick, padded gloves nearby and pull them on. The cold hits me immediately as I open the tank, a cloud of icy vapor billowing out. I reach in, my movements slow and careful as I search for Rack 7.

"Got it," I mutter, pulling out the rack. My heart is pounding as I scan the positions. "4 and 5...4 and 5..."

But as I reach the spots where the embryos should be, my blood runs cold. The slots are empty.

"Zaire," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. "They're not here."

"What do you mean, they're not here?" Zaire demands, peering over my shoulder.

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